Thank you.

Have you ever been out somewhere and spotted someone in a military uniform? Whether it be in a restaurant or a grocery store? Have you thought about going up to them and thanking them for their service?

I cannot begin to express just how good it feels to hear a total stranger thank me for what I am doing on a day-to-day basis. When I was stationed in North Carolina, I heard it at least once a week. Since I've been here in California since October 2006, I've heard it twice. I understand that this state is very liberal and that northern California has even made headlines about their feelings towards the military, but damn. Where would you be if 1.3% of the American population didn't volunteer to serve you?

Yes, the military has steered away from calling us service men and women and we are no longer joining "the service" but rather the military and the specific branch that we have chosen to sign up for, but the majority of us that did sign up to join the military are proud to be serving our country.

Whether you support the war or just support the troops, if you see someone in uniform, it doesn't hurt to simply say thank you.

This veteran's day, I'd like to share with you what POW/MIA bracelets are.

They started off in the 1970s by a group of college students that wanted to remember the POW/MIA soldiers during the Vietnam War. People wear them now to keep the memory of those POW/MIA alive and the hope that their bodies may soon be recovered and returned to their families all these years after. Servicemen from WWI, WWII, and the Vietnam War, the name, rank, and date MIA is engraved on a bracelet and usually worn until they return.

Army SGT Gregory A. Antunano was an observer on an OH6A "Loach" observer helicopter. On July 24, 1971, his helicopter was shot down in Cambodia by enemy fire while they were on a recon mission. The other two crewmembers on the plane were still alive when the helicopter went down. SGT Antunano was already believed to be dead. A rescue team came in to help the crew evacuate the area. The gunner, SP4 Dalton stopped breathing and was pronounced dead. That left the pilot as the sole survivor of the helicopter crash. Enemy soldiers started to enter the area and the rescue team and the pilot left the area, leaving Antunano's and Dalton's bodies behind. They were never recovered and are still missing today. Because their remains were left on enemy soil and not found, they are listed as MIA.

SGT Gregory Antunano was only 22 years old when he died. His home of record was San Francisco, CA. He was a member of Troop A, 3rd Squadron, 17th Calvary (Air Calvary), 12th Aviation Group. I wear his bracelet in memory and in honor of him and his service.

Happy veteran's day. I leave you with a painting that touches my heart and always brings me to tears when I see it.

Reflections by Lee Teter

The most difficult thing I've done in my career

This June will be my eight year anniversary in the military. I've deployed, gone TDY, performed details around base, made friends, met the love of my life, witnessed plenty of retirements and change of commands, and attended military memorials for members I've never met but wanted to pay my respects. The toughest thing I've had to do in my career thus far happened this past Thursday. Even harder than being deployed away from Genie when she was a baby because I knew that I would see her at the end of the rotation.

I had to listen to taps being played for a friend.

One of the biggest cons of being in the military is having to leave all the great friends and people you've met during an assignment to move to another base. Pope AFB was my first assignment and has been my best assignment so far. The camaraderie of the 41st airlift squadron was strong, even with our high deployment tempo. As much as deploying away from loved ones is something no one really wants to do, I saw it as another rotation for the squadron to grow tighter as we all got to know each other more during those trips to the sandbox.

Todd Brunkhorst was a butter bar when I first met him. He was brand new to the squadron and like all other aircrew that came in, I inprocessed him. He had this excited, happy-go-lucky attitude about him and anyone could tell that he was anxious to get his training started. I didn't quite understand it until I talked to him during his first deployment that he had always wanted to be an Air Force pilot. Todd was always smiling, I can't recall ever seeing him upset, angry, or even sad. He knew how to get people to crack a smile even when they weren't in the mood to.

Going to the memorial for him this past Thursday was.... unreal. I couldn't believe that it was the reason I was seeing him again, seeing his wife, Maryanna again. She was also in our squadron at Pope and I'm glad I got to witness the beginning of their relationship.

I found out the both of them were out here in California and we tried to get together but of course, busy schedules make it difficult for friends to get together. The next time I tried to get together with him was when he told me that he had a brain tumor. I was in shock. I told him that it would be OK, that Dan's mom was a two time brain cancer survivor. He was still in good spirits about it and told me he'd let me know when he'd be out of the hospital. The last time we contacted each other, he didn't want me to visit him in the hospital and I left it at that. Let him know I was thinking and praying for him and waited for him to let me know when we could get together.

I found out from a friend on Sunday that he had lost his fight. I couldn't believe it and went to visit his facebook page. Sure enough, people were starting to share memories and post how much they missed him. I still couldn't really believe it. On Tuesday I went to lunch with Nick Torres, a fellow Black cat (our squadron mascot from the 41st) who is at Travis with me and we talked about Brunkie. He had told me about talking to Maryanna and that there would be a memorial on Thursday for him. Of course I was going to be there. As much as part of me didn't want to go because I knew I wouldn't be able to contain my emotions (pregnant or not), I needed to be there for Maryanna.

Words can't describe the emotions and thoughts that ran through me as I made my way up to Beale AFB two days ago. I didn't know what to expect when I got there. It still didn't hit me that he was gone, part of me was struggling to convince the other part that he was in the hospital and that I'd wake up from the dream shortly. I finally arrived at the chapel and waited in line to sign the guest book. I could hear soft music playing as I walked through the door. Nick greeted me and we walked towards the front and sat three rows away from Maryanna and Todd's mom and brothers. I remember after taking my seat at the end of the aisle and putting my hat down I looked up to see the slide show that was playing and being shocked that Todd's casket was there. I was in no way prepared to see it and lost it. I tried burying my face in my hands, stifling my cries. Nick told me that there was a tissue box next to my chair (they were thoughtful enough to put tissue boxes next to each row) and as I reached down to get it, a flyer had actually got up from his seat to hand it to me.

When the service started, there were songs sung, music played, memories shared, and the flag presentation. The flag that was draped over Todd's coffin was folder and presented to Maryanna by his squadron commander. That was the last time I cried during that portion of the memorial, I think I went through about 20 tissues while we were inside. After that, we were invited to go outside for the remainder of the service- 21 gun salute and the playing of taps. I wanted to stay inside. Hearing taps is the saddest thing for any military member. After we were all outside and in place, the base honor guard team started the 21 gun salute. All that was going through my head was to choke back the tears (as much as I knew it wasn't going to help any), and then they sounded off taps. I tried my best to hold my salute even though all I wanted to do was hide my face in my hands again.

That was it. I attended a military memorial for someone I knew, someone I worked with and deployed with. He had full military honors and he deserved it. He would've been so proud.

We miss you, Brunkie. I know you're up there, back in the herc where you started your career as a pilot. I'm sure you're making everyone smile, playing pranks and doing 3 engine landings. Rest in Peace.

A moment of silence

Today, I had the honor of assisting our base Protocol office with a Fallen Hero ceremony. A hero returned to his home today...

If you haven't taken the time to see HBO's "Taking Chance", I recommend you find it on Netflix, HBO OnDemand, Bestbuy, etc. What happened today is related to that movie.

Myself along with four other Protocol augmentees served as crowd control although it wasn't needed. The Patriot Guard Riders were there which is always a site to see. Knowing that they were there to support the family puts me at ease because I understand why they do so much to honor the fallen. Thank goodness the stupid WBC wasn't around.

Army Capt John L. Hallett III is from Concord, CA. He was killed in a roadside bomb incident in Afghanistan on the 25th of August. Three other soldiers were killed with him. They were all stationed at Fort Lewis, WA.

The Lt from Protocol had warned us earlier this morning that it would be very emotional during the Fallen Hero ceremony. The casket would be removed from the aircraft and placed on the flight line for a few moments for the chaplain to say a prayer and the family to pay their respects. From there, it would be placed in the hearse before making the drive to Concord. What would make the ceremony emotional?

His family. Capt Hallett is survived by his wife, his two sons (4 and 2 years old), and his 2 week old daughter, whom he never had a chance to meet.

The site of his wife was what started the tears for me. A relative helped her out of her car in front of the flight line and I could see everything. I watched the four year old, almost white blond hair dressed in a long sleeved light blue button down shirt and khaki shorts, get out of the car and hold hands with a relative. Another relative helped the two year old out of the car, who looked so much like his older brother and even dressed like him too. Then the wife stepped out of the car and took her two week old daughter into her arms. Our base commander, Col Vechry, greeted her, and she started to cry. I think he asked her if she needed help because she said she was fine.

Watching her try and keep her composure was it for me. The next time was when the casket was placed into the hearse.

While watching everything that was going on, I felt proud of Capt Hallett for serving our country, fighting for what we hold dear, I was proud to be there to show my respect upon his return home- but seeing his wife grieve sent a wave of sorrow over me. I knew that there was/is nothing I could possible do or say to ease the pain and it made it harder to watch...



" A Soldier's Prayer...
The soldier stood and faced his God Which must always come to pass...
He hoped his shoes were shining Just as brightly as his brass.
"Step forward now, you soldier, How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek? To My Church have you been true?"
The soldier squared his shoulders and Said,"No, Lord, I guess I ain't...
Because those of us who carry guns Can't always be a saint.
I've had to work most Sundays And at times my talk was tough,
And sometimes I've been violent, Because the streets are awfully tough.
But, I never took a penny That wasn't mine to keep...
Though I worked a lot of overtime When the bills got just too steep,
And I never passed a cry for help, Though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God forgive me, I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place Among the people here...
They never wanted me around Except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here, Lord, It needn't be so grand,
I never expected or had too much, But if you don't, I'll understand."
There was a silence all around the throne Where the saints had often trod...
As the soldier waited quietly, For the judgment of his God,
"Step forward now you soldier,
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."